


who in the world is keith's husband?

by ailurea



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Everyone else is oblivious, Humor, M/M, Married Sheith, POV Outsider, holiday party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 09:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ailurea/pseuds/ailurea
Summary: Team Voltron’s manager, Keith, is bringing a plus one to the holiday party, and no one has any idea who it could be.There’s only one thing Team Voltron can do: start a betting pool.





	who in the world is keith's husband?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Depicts engineers perhaps unrealistically demonstrating healthy work habits.

It’s 4pm on Friday when Lance emits an unholy screech.

It’s not like he does it all the time, but it’s also not out of the norm for him, so Pidge finishes up her train of thought before she takes off her headphones and rolls her chair over to his desk where Hunk is already hovering.

“You’re lucky our team room is mostly soundproof,” she says. “Otherwise people will think we finally gave in and murdered you.”

“Keith is murdering me!” Lance points to his laptop screen. “Look!”

He’s looking at the online system that their company, Altea, is using for their holiday party invitations this year. Specifically, he has the page pulled up for people who’ve said they’ll be coming, and he’s zoomed in on where it says _Keith Kogane — +1 Guest_.

“Okay, he’s bringing a date,” Hunk says. “So what? I’m bringing Shay.”

“Yeah, but you’re, like—“ Lance gestures up and down his body. “You know, a normal person capable of making friends who doesn’t look like he’s going to go beat up someone in an alley after work. Does Keith even have friends?”

“We’re his friends,” Pidge says.

“We’re, like, fifty percent his friends,” Lance says. “I mean, how much can you really be friends with your manager?”

Hunk frowns. “Didn’t you always say you were best friends with Shiro?”

“Okay, Shiro was, like, the epitome of the friend manager,” Lance says. “Bless his soul. Keith is the cool, aloof manager. He has permanent RBF. You never know what he’s thinking.”

“He’s not that bad,” Pidge says. Shiro was a great manager and she definitely misses having him around, but she thinks they’re lucky they have Keith now. He shuts down anyone who says anything even vaguely negative about her gender or her age with extreme prejudice, and he tries to curb her workaholic tendencies by kicking her out of the office and making her take time off. “Everyone says he’s the best manager in the department.”

“You can be the best manager without being boyfriend material.” Lance gestures emphatically at the monitor, drawing their attention back to the matter at hand. “Come on, you can’t tell me you’re not surprised by this!”

Pidge can’t imagine Keith being lovey-dovey and romantic, but she knows he’s more quiet and private than he is cold and aloof. Those wouldn’t really prevent him from being in a relationship. She shrugs.

Hunk shrugs too.

“He’s just… not social. Don’t you remember last year’s holiday party?” Lance says. “He spent the whole time drinking cranberry juice and hiding behind Shiro.”

“To be fair, if you were gonna hide behind anyone, Shiro’s a pretty good choice,” Hunk says. “He’s, like—” He makes a gesture to indicate Shiro’s broadness.

Pidge agrees. Their last manager was built like a brick house.

“You’re right, but that is completely not the point,” Lance says. “Aren’t you curious what kind of person would date him?”

“I think that came out meaner than you meant it to sound,” Pidge says, but she is a little curious—not about who would date Keith, but who Keith would date. He’s insanely hard-working—aside from managing their team of engineers, he also puts in a lot of engineering work of his own. Of their team, he’s always the first in the office, and usually the last out.

“I see it in your eyes,” Lance says, leaning towards her. “You’re curious.”

“I’m curious about who he thinks is worth his time,” Pidge says. “I’m sure lots of people would date him.” Okay, maybe not lots—Keith’s intensity seems hard to match. But definitely some.

“We need to investigate,” Lance says. “Immediately.”

“Um, I really don’t know why you’re stressing over it,” Hunk says. “We’ll find out at the holiday party.”

“That’s a whole week away! And what if Keith decides last minute not to come? You know he would,” Lance says. “No, I’ll figure this out. Just you wait.”

“Okay, man,” Hunk says, patting his shoulder. “Have fun.” He exchanges a helpless glance with Pidge behind Lance’s head.

There’s no stopping Lance when he’s on a mission. Pidge only hopes he isn’t going to make things too awkward around here.

\----

Lance doesn’t ask Keith about it when he returns to the team room Friday evening, which Pidge isn’t sure is a blessing or a curse. She suspects Keith would answer a direct question, but she doesn’t want to be the nosy one here, so she doesn’t say anything, either.

They get blessed silence on the topic from Lance all weekend, up until Monday after lunch when he pulls them and the MFE Team (who he had apparently roped into this over breakfast) into a meeting room with wild eyes and says, “Okay, so the MFEs and I were talking this morning about starting a betting pool on the mysterious Keith Plus One, but there’s no need because I saw her. The girlfriend. She and Keith were having lunch together.”

“Please don’t tell me you took a picture,” Hunk says.

“Please do tell me you took a picture,” Nadia says.

“Hey, I respect his privacy, okay,” Lance says. “I wasn’t even following him or anything! I was just eating my Vrepit Sal’s, and he came in with this lady. They were totally close. It has to be his girlfriend.”

“Yeah, no,” James says, crossing his arms and leaning against the whiteboard. “Keith’s gay.”

“How would you even know that?” Lance says, and James shrugs.

Pidge is reminded that James and Keith have known each other for years, since they used to work together at Garrison. She trusts his judgment here.

Lance does not. “Come on, they were hugging and everything! Keith never hugs people!”

James’s expression becomes very, very pained. “Trust me, I really, really don’t want to say this,” he says. “But are you sure that wasn’t his mom?”

“Hold up a second,” Pidge says as Lance bristles, because that would be too off base, even for Lance. “Lance gets a lot of things wrong, but there’s no way he could confuse Keith’s mom for his girlfriend.”

“Yeah!” Lance says. “Trust me, she was one hundred percent not mom material. This case is closed!”

\----

“This case is not closed,” Lance whispers as he watches Keith give a woman he introduced as his mother, Krolia, a tour of the office.

“He had lunch with her, didn’t he,” Pidge says. Lance nods, and she throws a hackey-sack at him. “I stood up for you!”

“It’s not my fault she has good genes!” Lance whisper-yells. “Look at her, she—“

“I really do not want to hear this,” Pidge says, and puts her headphones back on.

Lance rolls away.

Thirty seconds later, the group chat explodes. The MFEs have just been introduced to Keith’s mother. The betting pool is back on, and theories range from sweet college professor (Ryan) to a studly sugar daddy type, even though Keith is clearly successful enough to not be in need of sugar (Nadia).

Pidge sighs and wonders how they ever manage to get any work done around here.

\----

On Tuesday, the team sees a sure sign of the apocalypse: Lance has just rolled through the door, and Keith is nowhere to be seen.

Hunk frowns. “Should we call him?”

Pidge looks at the clock and hopes Keith isn’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere. It’s almost time for their team meeting, and he never misses that. “Maybe if he’s not here in ten minutes?”

A stressful seven minutes and thirty-six seconds pass before Keith bursts through the door looking a ruffled mess.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says. “I got a flat on the way here and had to go back to get my husband’s car. I’ll probably have to leave a little earlier to deal with it.”

 _Husband?_ Lance mouths. His fingers are twitching to share the news.

There's a brief opening for them to just ask Keith about it, but then Hunk says, “No biggie. We’re glad you’re okay. We were getting worried.”

And the window is gone.

Keith smiles a little at them. “Thanks. Meeting time? I want to hear how the presentation’s going for Thursday.”

They give Keith an update on the presentation, and he says they’re doing good work and that he wants to hear another update right before lunch. Keith doesn’t usually micromanage, at all, but he’s been more than a little unbearable about this presentation. They grin and bear it, since hopefully it’s a one-time thing.

They adjourn the meeting with their usual four-way fistbump and a cheer to “Form Voltron!” They did it with Shiro occasionally as a joke, but when Keith joined the team, he took it as a sincere group bonding exercise, and he was so earnest about it that Shiro started leading it every time. When Shiro left and Keith took over as manager a few months later, it became a permanent addition to their meeting rituals.

After the meeting, Keith has to run because he missed a different meeting earlier in the day due to his flat. Pidge tries to leave too, but Lance pulls her and Hunk back into the room and shuts the door.

“He’s married?” Lance says in a whisper-yell. “Where’s the ring? Why weren’t we invited?”

“I thought you said we’re only fifty percent his friends,” Pidge says.

“He’s probably been married the whole time,” Hunk says. “He hasn’t really taken a vacation since he started, so he wouldn’t have had time.”

“But then what about the holiday party last year?”

“He’d just started,” Pidge says. “Maybe he thought it would be awkward to bring someone?”

Lance thinks about that response. “I buy that. The ring, though?”

Pidge shrugs. “He could’ve been wearing it. I never tried looking. Also, I don’t think I’ve seen him without his gloves on.”

“Yeah, same, actually,” Hunk says, squinting at the ceiling in thought. “Huh. It’s weird. Like, those are how his hands look in my mind. All motorcycle-gloved.”

“We have to see what kind of car his husband drives,” Lance says.

Hunk stares at him. “Why.”

“It’s insight into his character,” Lance says. “Like how we instantly knew so much more about Keith once we found out his daily drive is a motorcycle.”

“Is that true?” Hunk says. “I don't think that's true. Actually, that sounds like stereotyping.”

“And why are you still on this?” Pidge says. “The party is literally in three days. You can actually meet him and talk to him like a normal person.”

“Again, Keith could decide to bail on the party at any moment,” Lance says. “Then we’ll never know! We have to get to the bottom of this. The MFEs are with me. Are you?” He watches them solemnly, like they’re about to go into battle for a noble cause and not about to stalk their manager for clues about his personal life.

Pidge sighs, because Lance is either doing this with them or without them, and if she and Hunk are involved, at least they can do damage control. “All right.”

Lance cheers. “All right!”

So when Keith ducks out later that afternoon, they shiftily trail him to the garage. Luckily, he’s too busy talking on his phone to notice them, to what sounds like The Husband, judging from the part of the conversation they can hear.

“I should still be able to make it to dinner,” he's saying as he walks down the aisle. “I'm leaving early. Don't make fun of me when you work later than I do. Uh-huh. Love you.”

“Love you? Who even is he?” Lance whispers.

"A man in love," Hunk says, clutching his hands to his chest.

“For the record, this is a side of Keith I never thought I'd see,” Lance whispers. “Now show us the car. Knowing Keith, the guy definitely drives a sports car.”

“I don't see why it has to be a sports car,” Hunk whispers back. “Maybe he drives, like, a minivan or something.”

“Does Keith look like the kind of person who would marry someone who drives a minivan?” Lance whisper-yells.

“Dude, stereotyping,” Hunk whispers.

“Yep, so both of you are wrong,” Pidge whispers as she watches Keith take out the keys to his vehicle for the day.

“Well, what do you think it is, then?” Lance whispers.

“I don’t have to think, I can see,” Pidge says, nodding across the garage.

Keith is climbing into not a sports car, not a minivan, but a shiny, silver Prius.

\----

Lance is still shell-shocked come Wednesday.

Pidge got into the office early, so she managed a good few hours of quality work time before she ends up with Lance faceplanting on her desk and whispering, “A Prius. He rides a motorcycle. How can he be married to a Prius.”

“He’s not married to the Prius,” Pidge says.

“Besides, a lot of people drive Priuses,” Hunk says. “Shiro drove a Prius. It’s, like, one of the most popular cars in California.”

“It’s not one of the most popular cars in Keith!”

“Do you even think before you talk?” Pidge says.

“You know what, there’s only two kinds of Prius drivers,” Lance says. “The well-intentioned ones that drive like Shiro, and the assholes that drive like they’re on the Fast and the Furious. He’s probably the asshole kind.”

“Just to be clear,” Hunk says. “Are you now further stereotyping a stereotype?”

“Asshole Prius Driver,” Lance emphasizes. “You heard it here first.”

“We have received your information,” Nadia says, bursting through the door with the rest of the MFEs trailing behind her. “And we have some information of our own. We overheard Keith talking to Coran. The Husband… is vegetarian.”

“Yeah, I feel like we could’ve guessed that,” Hunk says. “I mean, Keith’s vegetarian.”

“Did you all just… come here to tell us that?” Pidge says.

“We also wanted to mention that we’re having lunch with Shiro,” Ina says. “He's come to talk to Allura about the status of the Atlas project. Care to join? We know he used to be your manager.”

The project the MFE team (no one knows what it stands for, not even the MFEs) works on is a joint venture between Garrison’s Atlas project and Altea’s Voltron project. While the MFEs work at Altea under Keith to foster collaboration, they’re actually Garrison employees and Shiro’s direct reports.

“Rain check,” Lance says with a sigh. “We’re giving a presentation to Marmora tomorrow afternoon and it's got Keith in a tizzy. We're doing a practice run to try to chill him out.”

“We think his old boss is gonna be there,” Hunk says.

“Ah,” Nadia says. “Keith’s gotta impress him, right?”

“His entire existence is impressive,” Lance says with great exasperation. “He doesn't need this presentation to prove himself.”

“But try telling that to Keith,” Pidge says.

She can understand his need to prove himself—he’s young, for a manager, and unlike the rest of them he never finished college. It’s easy to see why he might feel like he needs to go the extra mile, and they try to support him, even if he’s driving them all a little mad right now.

“Hey.” Lance sits up straighter. “Shiro referred Keith, didn't he? Doesn't that mean they're friends? Do you think he knows about The Husband?”

James snorts.

“If he does, I doubt he would say,” Ina says. “Shiro doesn't even speak about his own personal life. I'm sure he wouldn't speak about his former colleague’s.”

Lance slumps again. “Fair.”

“Tell him we said hi,” Pidge says, “and maybe next time!”

“You might see him Friday,” Ryan says. “If we’re invited to Altea’s holiday party then I’m sure he is, too.”

“That’d be awesome!” Hunk says.

Pidge agrees. With Shiro around, it would be just like old times.

\----

The presentation on Thursday goes off without a hitch. Keith de-ages twenty years in front of their eyes even though they still have to wait until next week to hear back from Marmora, and they enjoy the sweet relief of not getting pinged for updates every thirty minutes.

This time Pidge is the one that sees something vaguely scandalous—Keith is giving one of the Marmora representatives, a man named Regris, a lingering hug in front of the elevators. As Lance noted during the unfortunate _Keith’s mom_ incident, Keith hugs are rare. Keith hugs exceeding two seconds are practically unheard of. Keith even takes the elevator down with him.

Pidge goes back to the team room, checks Keith’s calendar, and waits seventeen minutes for him to return from escorting Regris down and head to his next meeting before sharing the news with Hunk and Lance.

“What are we waiting for?” Lance says. “Let’s look him up!”

It doesn’t take long to find his profile on LinkedIn, though it’s not very helpful. He and Keith have different last names, though that doesn’t mean much, as more and more people keep their last names for professional reasons. They didn’t go to the same school, but judging from class year Regris seems to be a couple years older than Keith. He joined Marmora the year before Keith did, meaning they overlapped there for three years before Keith came to Altea. That’s more than enough time to fall in love, but it’s not proof of anything.

“You said they had a five second hug?” Lance is staring at Regris’s profile photo speculatively.

“Yes,” Pidge says.

“Uh, what are you looking at?” Hunk says.

“Does he look related to Keith in any way?” Lance says, squinting. “I mean, we’ve been burned once. I just want to make sure.”

Pidge wants to make fun of him, but this is actually a legitimate concern. They all study Regris’s photo. He’s probably the epitome of tall, dark, and beautiful—he’s taller than Keith, Pidge remembers, but more slender. He’s dark-skinned, dark-eyed, and dark-haired. His hair is cropped short and he has an easy, charming smile on his face.

He doesn’t look a thing like Keith.

Pidge says so out loud.

“He could be, like, a half-brother or something,” Hunk says.

“I’ll consider him a valid contender for now.” Lance is already messaging the group chat with the update. “I can see him being an Asshole Prius Driver.”

Ina and Ryan seem impressed with their find.

James seems less impressed, just sending a “...”.

Nadia doesn’t think Regris is at Keith’s level and doubles down on her idea of a sugar daddy type.

No one has reasons to further qualify him, or any reasons to disqualify him, so he stands as their most likely candidate at this point in time, even though Pidge isn’t sure how likely he actually is.

They were hugging, yes, but even five second Keith hugs could extend to close friends having a bad day (like Hunk, when he was feeling homesick) or certain emotional situations (like Shiro, when they were having his goodbye party—in fact, Shiro got a legendary ten second hug for that one).

And besides, she doesn’t think Marmora would let Keith’s husband be part of the group that decided whether or not they would collaborate with Voltron. That sounds like a conflict of interest if she ever heard one.

All said, she really doesn’t think they’ve gotten to the bottom of this one. She really doesn’t think they’re going to. Keith keeps everything too close to his chest.

They’re just going to have to wait for the party.

\----

“We need to formalize the betting process,” Ina says on Friday afternoon. They’ve sequestered themselves in a meeting room with some snacks and drinks. It’s only hours until the holiday party, and they haven’t gotten any closer. Regris is still the only real name they have.

“Well, if you don’t think it’s Regris, then there’s no way we’re gonna be able to guess his name or anything,” Lance says. “So it’s gotta be traits.”

He pulls out a sheet of paper and draws a box with a circle and a blob inside it in one corner. “Here we will draw the mugshot.”

“Maybe say portrait,” Hunk says, and Lance writes _PORTRAIT_ above the box, then adds a line and labels it _OCCUPATION_.

“And then we will offer multiple choice options for the most contentious subjects,” Lance says. “For example.” He writes down _TALLER or SHORTER_.

“What if they’re the same height?” Pidge says. “It’s not like Keith’s that tall.”

 _or SAME_ , Lance adds, though he says, “I don’t know if Keith seems like the type to date someone his height.”

“Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re stereotyping or just saying things,” Hunk says. “Like. What does that even mean?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lance says.

“Buffness!” Nadia says, and Lance writes down _BUFFER or SMALLER_ , and then, after a brief moment, _or SAME_.

“Are those opposites?” Pidge says.

“You know what I mean,” Lance says. “Come on, less heckling, more suggesting.”

“Ugh, fine,” Pidge says. She tilts her head up in thought. “Maybe… how long they’ve been married?”

“Thank you, something useful,” Lance says. He draws a line and writes _LENGTH OF RELATIONSHIP_.

“I guess we’ve been debating about his personality?” Hunk says. “Even though it’s, like, in the context of driving his Prius.”

“See, I knew you guys had good ideas,” Lance says as he writes down _SWEET or SALTY_.

Ryan frowns at it. “Salty?”

“Yeah, that’s the option for a Keith-like personality,” Lance says. “And this is the option for, like, the opposite of Keith’s personality. Think Shiro.”

James spews La Croix everywhere.

“Gross!” Lance picks up the paper and flaps it around to dry it. “Trust me, I can’t imagine Keith with Shiro’s personality, either, but you don’t have to spray it.”

James coughs and says, weakly, “Sorry, just. The image.”

“I don’t know,” Hunk says. “There’s different ways of being sweet. Keith’s actually really nice. He just seems a little intimidating if you don’t really know him.”

“We’re talking about first impressions here,” Lance says. “It’s a holiday party. We’re not gonna get to know the guy all that well. We’re betting on shallow impressions only.”

“Uh, okay,” Hunk says. “Shallow… like physical attractiveness?”

“Dude, have you seen Keith?” Lance says. “His man is definitely going to be hot.”

“O-kay.” Pidge takes the paper. “We’re gonna stop now before we get into sexual harassment territory. This is more than enough. We’ll just do it by number of things right? What’s the wager?”

“First pick of the La Croix flavors,” Ina says.

“You guys really like La Croix,” Hunk says. “That doesn’t really matter to us, though.”

“Everyone’s snack votes,” James says. “For a month.”

The office provides free snacks for employees, and every week each employee could cast three votes. The top-ranking snacks were the ones that were bought. Between Voltron and the MFEs, that would be twenty-one snack votes.

That was a lot of snack votes.

“Bold wager,” Lance says. “I’m in.”

Everyone echoes his sentiment, blinded by the possibility of snack dictatorship for a month.

James smirks. “May the best person win.”

\----

Pidge makes copies of the betting sheet and they all fill out their predictions. Keith seems like he’d be sweet in a relationship, she thinks, so she votes for someone sweet and about his size and doodles a cute-looking person with glasses and hair in a long ponytail.

As for occupation—she thinks given Keith’s drive he’d get along best with someone he could talk about his career with, so she writes “engineer”.

It’s true that Keith doesn’t talk about many people from his personal life at all—he mainly only brings up people they’ve worked with, past and present—but a husband is such a huge part of his life that Pidge can’t imagine they’ve been together for too long if Keith hasn’t even mentioned him until now. So she guesses their relationship length at one year.

She doesn’t look at the other sheets, preferring to save them until the party for maximum amusement value, but Lance can’t resist flipping through.

“We have got this in the bag,” Lance says. “I mean, apparently James thinks he’s a sweet, huge engineer with a mohawk.” Lance brandishes James’s sheet. “A mohawk!”

The chances of an engineer with a mohawk are already low enough that Pidge doesn’t discount the possibility that James sucks at drawing, but she doesn’t tell Lance that.

She takes the papers for safekeeping and when she gets home she tucks them into the purse she’s bringing. She ends up catching a Lyft to the party because Matt needed the car last minute and Altea will reimburse her anyways. She's sure she can convince someone there to give her a ride if she doesn’t feel like hanging out with a stranger for the twenty minutes back.

She finds Lance first, in a blue suit with a pink tie and looking pissed by the cheese and crackers.

“Let me guess,” she says. “Keith and his husband didn’t show.”

“Even worse,” Lance says. “Keith showed but The Husband didn't.” He gestures over to where Keith is standing, talking with Bii-Boh-Bi from Marketing—who Keith actually actively dislikes—and Shiro, who must have been extended a courtesy invite after all.

Keith’s dressed up for the occasion—black suit and red tie, with a black and white pocket square—but Pidge can still see his motorcycle gloves under his sleeves. He looks more than a little annoyed.

“I can't believe his own husband would stand him up for a holiday party!” Lance takes a vicious bite of a cracker. “Now we have to figure out who he is so we can fight him.”

Pidge agrees. She really does like Keith, and she had high hopes for his husband being a perfect match for him—sweet and caring, with an ambition to rival his. Maybe he was too ambitious, and not sweet and caring enough, to not be there for Keith.

She finds herself disappointed, and more than a little angry for Keith. He deserves better.

“Let’s TP his house,” Lance says.

“We can’t TP his house, Keith lives there too!”

“Ugh, so we really do have to fight him?” Lance shudders. “I hope he’s not actually huge.”

“We’re probably gonna have to fight him. But maybe we should just hang out with Keith for now,” she says, eyeing Keith’s closed-off stance and twitching brow. “Cheer him up. He looks miserable.”

Lance agrees, but as they approach, Keith walks away and they catch Shiro’s eye instead. He beams and waves them over, saying something to Bii-Boh-Bii that has him waving and walking away.

Pidge glances in the direction Keith was walking, but he's been swallowed by the crowd, so she lets herself be drawn into Shiro’s gravity.

“Hey Shiro. Haven't seen you in a while,” she says, hugging him in greeting. He’s also all dressed up in a black suit and black tie, with a red pocket square adding a festive hint to make him not look like he’s dressed for a funeral.

“I've even meaning to try to get lunch with you guys, but it's been busy,” he says, pulling Lance in for a quick hug as well. “How are you? And where's Hunk?”

“His girlfriend got off work late,” Lance says. “He's waiting to drive them both over. He should be here soon, though.”

“Shay, right?” Shiro says without missing a beat. “I’m looking forward to seeing her again. She still at Balmera?”

“Yeah,” Pidge says. “Hunk’s asked her about joining Altea, but she’s pretty happy where she is.”

“Garrison, represent!” Nadia says, high-fiving Shiro and announcing the arrival of the MFEs to their circle, drinks in hand. It starts off a chain of hugs with Shiro all around. “Isn’t it so awesome to be able to go to two holiday parties? Free food today, free food next week...”

“Is the food really free if we work forty hours a week all year for it?” James says.

As they catch up with Shiro, Ryan inches closer to Pidge to whisper, “We saw Keith by the bar. Where’s his man?”

“He didn’t show,” Pidge whispers. “We’re gonna jump him after this is over, but for now we’re just trying to cheer Keith up.”

“Copy that,” Ryan whispers, and shuffles over to James to spread the news.

She can tell when James hears, because he actually sputters and chokes on his drink in offense.

At some point, Keith comes back to them with a drink in each hand. He hands one—a light-colored liquid—to Shiro. He takes a sip of what Pidge suspects is cranberry juice.

“Hey guys,” he says to everyone. Unlike Shiro, he makes no move to come closer for a hug.

“Where’s mine?” Lance says, nodding towards Shiro’s glass.

Keith stares at it, then Lance, looking genuinely confused. “I didn’t know you wanted one? Should I—“ He half-turns, but Shiro catches him by the upper arm.

“He’s joking,” Shiro says with a fond smile.

Keith frowns and takes another sip of his drink.

Pidge glares at Lance. They’re supposed to be cheering Keith up to distract him from his husband standing him up, not making his mood worse.

Lance looks around wildly, then says, “Hey, Keith, there’s giant Jenga! You love giant Jenga, right? Let’s play while we wait for Hunk.”

“Uh, we’re gonna pass.” Nadia jerks a thumb at James. “This guy gets too competitive. Especially with Keith. We’ve heard about their Garrison days.”

“Keith cheats!” James points at him accusingly.

Keith watches him impassively over his juice.

“We’ll see you later!” Ina says as they usher James away.

This is the first Pidge has heard about Keith showing affection or aptitude for Jenga (or any game, for that matter), but they start walking towards the table where the Jenga is set up without waiting for an answer and Keith trails after them.

They see what James is talking about immediately.

When it’s Keith’s turn, he doesn’t even try touching any blocks before yanking one out without even a flinch, even though the rest of them are physically cringing away, waiting for it to topple. He plops it on top. The tower doesn’t even sway.

“What the fuck,” Lance mutters.

Shiro laughs as he takes his turn. He only uses one hand, his cutting-edge prosthetic giving him very fine motor control that Pidge suspects gives him an edge, but she definitely doesn’t have the heart to call him on it. No one else seems to, either.

Lance spends a full minute wiggling out a piece near the bottom, then gently places it on the top, holding it with the tips of his fingers.

Pidge pokes around pieces until she finds one that feels loose and moves that one.

As the tower’s balance grows more precarious, all of their turns begin to take a little bit longer—all except Keith’s. As he had been doing the entire game, Keith seems to just pull out whatever block catches his eye first and drops it on top with blatant disregard.

“Just… how,” Lance mutters.

Pidge agrees with Lance. Keith isn’t cheating. He just possesses supernatural Jenga powers.

Shiro slings an arm around Keith’s shoulders, a gesture that doesn’t count as a hug in Keith-land but still requires a decent amount of familiarity with him. “I think you’re scaring them.”

“I’m just playing the game!” Keith says, but he’s smiling a little as he bumps his side into Shiro's.

Pidge exchanges a fistbump with Lance. Score one for Team Voltron!

On Lance’s next turn, he spends five minutes picking out a piece. Hunk and Shay appear while he’s trying to eke it out of its spot.

“Whoa, nice!” Hunk says, eyeing the spaces in the structure. “You guys are pretty good at this.”

“Keith is a monster,” Lance complains, his voice straining with effort as he tugs the block out centimeter by centimeter.

“Is that any way to speak to your manager?” Keith says, and it’s a good sign if he’s even starting to make jokes.

Pidge flashes Lance a thumbs up, and he gives her one in return, but it screws up his focus and the Jenga block in his other hand twitches, sending the entire tower toppling to the ground.

“Pidge!” Lance screeches, staring at the remnants of his shattered pride.

“Sorry, sorry!” Pidge says, waving her hands in apology. “That was totally my bad.”

Lance makes an inarticulate noise.

“Hey, how about the photobooth? Now that we’re all here,” Shiro says, patting Lance on the shoulder as Keith hides a laugh behind his glass.

The Jenga has served its purpose, at least, even if it was at the cost of Lance’s pride.

“Great idea!” Hunk says. “By the way, you all remember Shay.”

“It’s good to see you all again,” Shay says, waving.

Keith and Shiro catch up with her as they make their way over to the photobooth station. Pidge lingers behind with Lance, quietly filling Hunk in on their new vendetta against The Husband.

Hunk suggests sneakily filling the house with Legos for The Husband to step on, which they have to veto because Keith would step on them too. Pidge loves the absurd pettiness of it, though.

The line is shorter now, a lot of people having already taken their photos earlier in the night, when they came in.

“Team Voltron photo, yeah?” Lance says as he holds a plastic mustache to his face and holds out more to the rest of them.

“Plus plus ones!” Pidge says. They shouldn’t exclude Shay, just because she’s never worked with them.

So they pile behind the camera with their mustaches—Team Voltron of past and present plus Shay. Their first photo is a classy mustache photo. For their second photo, they toss out the mustaches and do a superhero squad pose, with Keith and Shiro in the middle. On the third, Lance yells, “Awkward prom photo!”, grabs Pidge’s waist, and turns them sideways. In front of them, Hunk takes Shay’s waist.

Pidge has no idea what Keith and Shiro are doing behind them, but she finds out when the photo strips are developed. Keith ended up taking Shiro’s waist, but from Shiro’s hand on top of his it looks like Shiro had to guide him there. Keith’s face is, expectedly, confused at the concept of an “awkward prom photo”, and Shiro’s is turned up in laughter.

It’s kind of cute, and Pidge is glad Keith doesn’t seem upset at the reminder that he’s here alone when he shouldn’t be.

Only three photo strips get printed. Hunk and Shay should obviously get one, and Pidge decides to give one to Shiro. “We’ll put one up in the office, so you should keep one,” she says.

He beams at it. “Thank you.”

He turns to Keith with a gentle smile to show him the photos, but Keith is distracted checking his phone. His face stiffens as he looks down at the screen. “Regris. Sorry, I have to take this.” He walks away to have privacy for his call, and Pidge wonders if she was wrong—if Regris is The Husband, and if he's finally here.

She glances at Lance and Hunk, and from Lance’s eyebrow waggling and Hunk’s furtive glances it looks like they're having the same thoughts.

“Hunk and Shay, you haven’t had a chance to get a drink yet, right?” Shiro says with an easy smile. “Why don't we head to the bar and you tell me what you all have been up to?”

They catch Shiro up on all that’s changed at the office since he left until word spreads that the dinner service is starting. They pick a table near the back of the room. There are eight seats at the table but only five of them, leaving room for Keith and his husband to join, plus one more.

Shiro takes off his jacket and drapes it over the chair next to him before sitting down, continuing their conversation all the while.

“Hey, sorry about that,” Keith says as he joins them a few minutes later—still alone, and looking serious. He sits down next to Shiro, even though Shiro’s jacket is still hanging over the back of the chair, marking it as claimed.

Shiro doesn’t say anything, just discreetly moves it onto the back of his own chair while Keith leans forward to pour a glass of water. He’s taken off his gloves for dinner, and she can see the glint of his silver wedding band on his finger.

Shiro really is too nice, Pidge thinks. She wonders who he was saving the seat for.

She doesn’t have to wonder long.

“Allura!” Shiro says, flagging her down as she passes by and standing up to hug her. “It’s been so long. Thank you for letting me come, even though I betrayed you.”

“Well you did bring us Keith in return,” she says, and Keith gets up and deigns to allow the CEO of his company to hug him. “So I suppose I could forgive you. I’m glad you both could join us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Shiro says with a gentle smile. “Come sit with us?”

“Duty calls, unfortunately,” she says, nodding towards another table where a number of executives are sitting with their families. “But I’ll be sure to come by and catch up with you all later,” she adds, waving at the rest of them.

They bid their goodbyes, and Lance gestures for Pidge to lean closer to him and whispers, “You think Shiro’s into Allura?”

Pidge glances at Shiro to make sure he’s not listening, but he and Keith have their heads bent over something on one of their phones, Keith mumbling something about Marmora. It’s just like he and Shiro to be working at a party.

But at least it means they’re not paying the rest of the table any attention.

“Isn't she dating Lotor?” she whispers back.

“Ugh, don't remind me,” Lance hisses. “But I'm talking about Shiro here.”

Pidge looks at Shiro again. He smiles at everyone, but there was something soft and private about the one he gave to Allura. But then again, he gave a similar one to Keith earlier in the night, so maybe that's just the smile reserved for people who know him well. She knows he's known Allura since grad school, and if he knows Keith from working at Garrison together, that was about the same amount of time. His smile for Allura meant something, but not necessarily a romantic something.

So she shrugs at Lance. “I don’t know, he’s nice to everyone. And they’ve been friends for a long time.”

“He was trying to save a seat for her,” Lance points out.

“Yeah, probably because she invited him,” she whispers. “Can we just focus on being nosy about one person’s love life at a time?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I can’t believe he still hasn’t shown up,” Lance mutters, leaning back. “He probably won’t, at this point.”

Hunk leans over Lance and whispers, “Are we talking about The Husband? Dude, what gives? I thought he was a cool guy. I feel so betrayed. Poor Keith.”

Lance shakes his head. “Knew he was one of those Asshole Prius Drivers.”

“What are we talking about?” Coran says.

They all jump.

At some point, Coran, their office manager, took the empty seat at the table next to Shay. Between him and Keith is Romelle, their head of HR.

“Just, you know…” Pidge says. It feels as though all of her thoughts have abandoned her in her moment of need. What could they talk about that would distract Keith from his sadness?

“We were just thinking that we should have another pet day at the office soon,” Hunk says. “We were wondering how Kosmo was doing.”

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Romelle says.

Keith visibly perks up as he starts going for dog pictures on his phone and telling them about his never-ending quest to find Kosmo a good dog sitter-slash-walker, since no one else seems to be able to handle him. Shiro agrees, and launches into a story about getting mauled by Kosmo at the dog park.

“Very nice save,” Lance whispers, fistbumping Hunk.

Pidge smiles at them, relieved they could rescue it. They were a good team, and they could make it through any project together—even this mission to cheer up Keith. Usually they did things knowing Keith had their back; this time they would have his.

That’s what teams are for.

\----

They make it through dinner and dessert without incident, and Keith seems looser and vaguely more cheerful by the end of it—though a bit of that could probably be attributed to his drink, which he had gotten a second and third glass of after dinner and which was clearly not cranberry juice, judging from the way he starts tipping onto Shiro’s shoulder.

He probably needs the drink. It’s far past time for Keith’s husband to make any kind of an appearance, and Pidge would be drinking too if she had a partner who stood her up so badly in front of so many people.

It’s near the end of the night and a lot of people have already left, including all the MFEs except for James, who’s getting a ride from Keith because, unexpectedly, they’re neighbors.

“We can give you a ride, too,” Keith says when he hears that Pidge took a Lyft to the party. He doesn’t say _I_ , which probably means James is driving. Good call. Keith seems more than a bit tipsy.

“It’s safer,” Shiro says.

Keith must have brought his husband’s car again, if he has seats to offer.

“Is it a good idea or a bad one to follow Keith home and slash The Husband’s tires after?” Lance whispers.

Pidge takes a moment to appreciate how quickly betting on Keith’s husband’s identity became defending Keith’s honor from him after they realized he was a dick.

“Gonna say bad idea,” Hunk whispers.

“Don’t worry,” Pidge whispers, eyeing Keith’s sad, tipsy state and swearing vengeance. “We can take him, three to one.”

“I can’t believe now we’re the ones who are gonna beat up someone in an alley after work,” Lance mutters, but he doesn’t sound upset by it.

Shiro seems to take it in stride as Keith gets visibly drunker, letting Keith lean on him as they stand around and supporting him as they make their way to the coat racks. It’s only after they’re all getting ready to leave that someone finally broaches the topic.

“Hey, uh, Keith,” Lance says.

“Yeah?” Keith says, midway through being helped into his coat by Shiro.

“Sorry you got stood up tonight,” he says. “We were really hoping to meet your husband.”

Keith freezes with one arm and a half through the sleeves of his coat, Shiro awkwardly hovering at his back with the rest of it.

Behind them, James snorts. It’s a very familiar snort.

“Holy shit,” Pidge says. James is Keith’s neighbor. He must have seen The Husband before. He’s been snorting at them this whole time, mocking them because he knows the truth. And now she’s remembering James’s bet: huge and sweet and—well, he doesn’t have a mohawk, but she could see how Shiro’s fluff of hair could be inartfully rendered as one.

Shiro is as hard-working as Keith, just as ambitious—and with more experience to match. He’s caring and kind, persistent and strong-willed enough to see beneath Keith’s defenses, and—most importantly—he’s a vegetarian Prius driver (though the Shiro-est of the Shiro type, not the Asshole type).

“Holy shit,” she says again. “You’re married to Shiro.”

“What?” Lance screeches.

“That’s so sweet!” Shay says.

“Was that—Was that not obvious?” Keith is still stuck in his frozen position. Shiro tugs the rest of his coat over his shoulders.

Lance bristles. “No, it was not!”

Keith points to their pocket squares in confusion.

Ah, so that’s why Shiro’s was red, Pidge realizes. They match.

“Those are very common colors!” Lance says.

Keith points to Shiro’s hands, still resting on his shoulders, in increasing agitation.

“Shiro’s a very nice person,” Hunk points out, though Pidge realizes that she can’t imagine Shiro helping anyone else into their coat like that. Hand them their coat, maybe. Put it on for them—not so much.

Keith holds up his hand, showing off his wedding band, and with the other he points to the ring finger on Shiro’s prosthetic hand. There’s a raised ring there that Pidge realizes is actually a _ring_ and not just a bump in the metal. The silver happens to be a similar color to the prosthetic.

“That’s a ring?” Lance demands. “For how long?”

“Uh, four years?” Shiro says, glancing between Keith and the rest of them in concern—and four years? That meant they’d been married since Shiro started at Altea in the first place! “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this would be a surprise. We never tried to hide anything.”

“Neither of you really talk about your private lives. Like, at all,” Pidge says. They probably doubled down on it for professional reasons for the few months they overlapped at Altea.

“I really thought you all knew,” Keith says, sounding very sober. “We came together at last year’s party.

That explains why he was similarly glued to Shiro’s side last year, though this year Pidge assumed that Shiro was just following Team Voltron around.

Keith looks at Pidge. “And you called Shiro my plus one.”

Pidge tries to think back, and recalls the incident at the photobooth. “I was talking about Shay. Shiro’s, like, honorary Team Voltron. We thought Allura invited him!”

“ _Do you even fit in a Prius?_ ” Lance says.

Shiro startles, looking a bit lost at the sudden change in topic. “Um—yes? I mean, it’s my car?”

“Wow,” Hunk says. “I can’t believe it. We were gonna murder you.”

Shiro’s eyes widen and he points at himself. “Me?”

“Keith’s husband,” Pidge clarifies, then realizes that doesn’t sound much better.

“We thought he was an asshole who left Keith alone all night!” Lance says. “Only we get to stress Keith out like that! Why were you looking so upset if Shiro was here the whole time? And getting drunk? You never drink!”

“Upset?” Keith says.

“It’s his stressed face,” Shiro says, massaging Keith's shoulders under his hands. “He’s been working hard on trying to push the Marmora deal through on Altea’s end. And, uh,” he looks a little guilty now. “He got more stressed after Regris called about it, so… I may have encouraged him to drink a little too much.”

This is explaining so much.

“We were worried about you!” Lance says.

“Guys…” Keith actually looks touched, and a bit teary. This is all Shiro’s fault.

“That’s really sweet of you guys.” Shiro smiles at them. “I promise, I’ve been taking good care of him,” he says, wrapping his arms fully around Keith’s shoulders. Keith snuggles into the embrace, and Pidge doesn’t know how she missed it before.

“And you knew the whole time, you traitor,” Lance says to James. “You drove here with them!”

James shrugs. “It was funny.”

“Your bet is disqualified!”

“You had a bet?” Shiro says. “On what?”

Pidge, Lance, and Hunk exchange guilty looks.

“Uh,” Hunk says. “On what kind of person Keith’s husband would be?”

Shiro laughs. “Now this I have to hear.”

“What does the winner get?” Keith says.

“Snack votes,” Hunk says. “Ours and all the MFEs.”

“Shit, I think this means Nadia wins,” Lance whispers.

Pidge thinks he’s right. Nadia’s sugar daddy type was probably also huge and sweet, with a fifty-fifty chance of being some engineering type occupation. The looks were probably all wrong, but discounting James’s entry it’s probably the closest to reality.

Shiro whistles. “Snack votes. Hefty wager. You must be quite the mystery, baby.”

The _baby_ is almost too much when they’ve only known the truth for a few minutes. If Shiro had only called him that earlier in the night, they would have figured it out much earlier. Probably. Possibly. Hopefully.

“I don’t try to be,” Keith grumbles.

“Well, I'm sorry for the confusion,” Shiro says. “And the surprise. But thanks for looking out for him. I really appreciate it.”

“Thanks, guys,” Keith says again, sincerely.

“Aw, you’d do it for us,” Hunk says, taking advantage of Keith’s tipsy state to go in for a three-second Keith hug and a slightly longer Shiro hug. “And be much more intimidating, probably.”

“Yeah, honestly it’s probably for the best it turned out this way,” Lance says, also braving both hugs. “We’re glad your husband’s not an asshole.”

“Thank… you?” Keith says.

Pidge hugs them too, even though she’s going to be in the car with them, since she thinks there’s a fair chance Keith is going to be asleep by the time she actually says goodbye.

And he is.

By the time they pull up to her house, Keith is fast asleep against the passenger side window of Shiro’s Prius, lightly snoring. She whispers a goodbye to them, but stops outside the car and gestures for Shiro to roll his window down.

After he does, she leans down and says quietly, “For what it’s worth, I’m really glad you have each other. I know I haven’t known Keith as long as I’ve known you, but… from what I’ve seen, I think you’re really good for each other.”

Shiro smiles. “Thanks, Pidge. I’m glad, too.”

Pidge hesitates for a moment, but if anyone has the right to know, it’s them. She takes the folded bet sheets out of her bag and hands it to him. “Don’t look until later. It’s embarrassing. But maybe you’ll think it’s funny.”

He laughs quietly as he takes them. “I’m sure we will.” He pauses for a moment. “Hey, thanks for looking out for him tonight. And always. He told me about your presentation the other day for Marmora. How hard you all worked, and how you didn’t say a word even though he knew he was being a bit of a jerk about it. It meant a lot to him.”

“Yeah, I mean, we get it,” Pidge says. “We’ve all got pressure sometimes. And he’s always got our backs when we need him. We should be getting his back, too.”

Pidge almost says something about _teams_ , but this is more than that—they were about to go tear Keith’s husband a new one. That’s not something a team does for their manager. That’s what friends do. They’re friends. And—

“That’s what friends are for.” She holds up a fist to him, just outside his window.

Shiro’s smile changes in some way, shifts until it becomes the same gentle, private smile she saw him give Allura and Keith that night. “Form Voltron,” he says, bumping her fist with his own.

It sounds ridiculous to say out loud on the darkened driveway in front of her house and not in a meeting room somewhere, but with Shiro, who isn’t even with the company anymore, this gesture is more than an affirmation of teamwork. It’s a symbol that they’re going to have each other’s backs, at Altea and beyond.

So she meets his smile with one of her own and presses her hand harder against his, a promise.

“Form Voltron.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [allie](https://ao3.org/users/artenon) and [Faia](https://ao3.org/users/FaiaSakura) for the beta work!
> 
> I wish you all a very happy holiday season, and all the best for 2019! ♥
> 
> .
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ailurea)


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